


I Will Cover My Eyes

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Arson, Breaking and Entering, Conspiracy, Language, M/M, Mafia Prince Noctis, Organized Crime, Tattoos, Torture, Yakuza Ignis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 09:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10160435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Ignis has been working for the Caelum family since he was 13, earning himself a reputation as being one of the coldest and most efficient of Regis' 'soliders'. He's ruthless, his loyalty is unwavering, and nothing can rattle him, not even uncovering a Niflheim conspiracy.Almost nothing. When it comes to Noctis...well in that area Ignis finds matters are complicated, to say the least of the matter.(More Yakuza Ignis. ...It was an interesting night on tumblr.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Um. Torture. Casual attitudes towards crime. Ignis blends romance with work. Also Ignis is probably a bittttt mentally unstable/not a good person? ...oh and Noctis is sixteen to Iggy’s twenty/twenty one. But nothing happens. Just tension. And dancing. And Gladio side eyeing Ignis.

 

“Hey, Iggy!” Noctis shouted when, finally, he saw Ignis and the other Guard coming down down the rocky path that lead to his father’s office. Ignis turned to him, moonlight reflecting off the dark lenses of his glasses, then glanced back at the others to make a gesture. Gladio, towering over everyone else, nodded and together they headed for him, the rest of the group trailing behind.

The Citadel, the estate he’d grown up on, was made up of one main south facing building, looking out onto the large courtyard, and other smaller buildings connected by walk ways and covered paths. His father did business in one of the smaller buildings on the west side of the estate, far enough away from the main house that Noctis had never successfully snuck over to peek in without getting caught.

It had been too much open space and too much distance to cover for a curious child, even when he’d had Ignis helping him plot it all out. It had gone from ‘unlikely’ to ‘flat out impossible’ when Ignis had been promoted from playmate to a member of the ‘business’ to ‘please, Noctis, allow your father to conduct his business in peace’ when he’d moved up to being a Guard.

He didn’t try to eavesdrop anymore. A few kidnapping attempts and being held at gunpoint on one nightmare inducing occasion had killed the fun he’d found in watching his father at work. He avoided the office completely, had moved out after the last time he’d nearly been snatched off the street and been subject to the sight of Gladio nearly crushing a man’s skull to protect him and Nyx putting a bullet into someone’s head without so much as flinching, and rarely came back.

There was, as it turned out, a difference between knowing something in theory and seeing someone you called a friend stand over a person and shoot them in the back of the skull. And he knew it had gotten worse, that no one had walked away from that, but Ignis had appeared and blocked his view while covering his ears and...

He was only here tonight because he and his father were supposed to have dinner but, just like the last four time, it had been pushed back for the sake of Business. He would have had someone drive him home but a quick poking around had found that Clarus Amicitia and Darius Scientia along with some of the Guard were in the meeting. That it had given him a moment’s pause, what could his father want with his two closest lieutenants and a handful of mid-tier guys, but even then he would have dismissed it except for the fact Ignis was there.

Noctis wanted Ignis to come home with him. 

He’d been standing by the front door for nearly an hour now. Lucky for him it was a warm night and Jared, who worked under the Amicitia family but often tended to Noctis when he was around, had been happy to bring him tea and sweets. He’d been in good humor, making Noct promise not to tell Ignis he was bringing him cookies before dinner and catching him up on how Talcott and Iris were doing in his clubs, and it had helped the time pass.

The older man had retreated at the sight of the Guard, bidding Noctis a quiet ‘Have a good evening young master’ and slipping inside. Noctis almost wished he’d stayed because it was hard to look like he’d just happened to be there, all casual like, when he was shuffling around in the doorway holding a mug of tea.

They moved towards him as a unit, silent and serious faced in their near identical dark suits. Ignis was at their head, Gladio at his side and barely half a step behind. There were three more Guards, faces he didn’t know (they must have been recently moved up from the street level) and then there was Titus, the head of the Glaive. Titus was in the middle of the group, two of the three guards so close to him their shoulders were brushing and the third tight at the older man’s back.

It was a strange scene. Titus outranked all of them and if anyone should have been leading the small group it was him, not Ignis. It was no secret that Ignis and Gladio were favored as heirs to the Amicitia and Scientia families but, in Noctis’ opinion, that favor was dubious at best. What it really meant was that they’d been brought into things young, observed how business worked for years before being starting at the street level far younger than most. Noctis still remembered the first time Ignis had told him he couldn’t stay to play because he had to work, and the rather impressive sulk he’d fallen into because of it. Their families had been friends of his own family for many generations, but they still obeyed the hierarchy and, as far as Noctis knew, never stepped out of place. They were called on often and followed the orders of those above them, which included all of the Glaive and his father’s lieutenants.

Their places still had to be earned, even if there had been a small boost. If they were making their way through the ranks faster than normal it was because they deserved it. Even if this was a casual moment, and nothing about the pinched expressions and dark eyes he saw looked casual, it didn’t make sense for Titus to be hemmed in. It was almost like they were escorting him somewhere.

Aside from that, and even more strange, none of the Glaive were around.

The assembled Guard slowed down in front of him. They bowed and murmured their usual greetings. Titus seemed to hesitate, eyes darting to the side, before he too bowed stiffly. Noctis frowned slightly; he didn’t care about that sort of thing, he’d long since decided they way his father’s men treated him was awkward and weird, but it was another out of place thing in a growing pile.

Ignis moved, coming to stand at the base of the steps leading from the walkway to the covered path that went around the main building. “Noctis, did you need something?”

He was close enough to reach out and touch with no effort at all, close enough that Noctis could see himself reflected in his eyes and the way his fingers twitched. He almost did it, reached over the short distance between them, but a slight raise of Ignis’ eyebrows kept him in place.

This wasn’t the time or place. Though to hear Ignis tell it, insofar as they ever spoke about *it*, nowhere was the place and it was never the time.

Noctis wasn’t willing to accept that.

“Um. Well. You look busy?” With what Noct didn’t want to know but it was obvious something was up. He wanted Ignis’ time and he knew if he asked for it he'd get it (Ignis always put him first) but something felt very ‘off’. “Is everything okay?”

Ignis blinked at him then smiled slightly. Noct’s stomach fluttered. “Of course. There's some trouble down by Hammerhead and your father has decided to send Titus to oversee some things. We thought we’d take him out for a going away party.”

“Yeah,” Gladio added, eyes bright with humor even as his voice took on a dangerous edge. He reached back and clapped Titus on the shoulder hard enough to make the man stumble. Noctis winced in sympathy. “Should be fun, right Titus?”

The older man was silent for a moment, eyes darting up to stare at Noctis. He stood tall and rigid, lips curling downward for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Fun.”

Noctis frowned slightly then shrugged, dismissing it. “So that’s a yes to being busy?”

“You needed something? This isn’t that pressing a matter.”

“I. Well.” He looked back at the others, feeling very small under their unflinching gazes. Right, this was where he looked every inch the brat prince some thought he was. “It’s about Lunafreya’s birthday.”

Someone snickered but when Noctis looked everyone was stone faced. Ignis glanced back, just for a moment and with no change Noctis could see to his expression, and one of the three guards looked away, clearly uncomfortable. Ignis seemed to have that effect on people, making them squirm or turn their gaze elsewhere with just a look. Noctis didn’t understand what it was, what other people saw when they looked at Ignis that he did not, but whatever it was scared people.

He’d never understand that. Ignis was...Ignis. He knew Ignis secretly loved fantasy novels, trips to the planetarium or out to the edge of the city to watch the stars, watched shitty sci-fi shows and movies that even Noctis wouldn’t choose to watch, ad grew his own herbs in a flower box in his kitchen window. Ignis was a nerd...who happened to look amazing in a black and charcoal gray pinstriped suit with his black shirt open enough to show off his collar bones, with his hair pushed back and-

Hot. But not scary.

He’d heard a little gossip but he couldn’t believe any of it. He only had to consider the shit people say about him to know what they said about Ignis couldn’t be true.

People thought Noctis was spoiled. Pampered. Ungrateful and unappreciative, that he used his father’s men and money frivolously, to cater to silly whims. That he should have begun learning the ins and outs of the business to take over for his father long before now and was ducking his responsibility, seemingly unaware that it was Regis who kept him from doing so. (Not that Noctis wanted in but even if he had…) Gladio and Ignis had started working for Regis when they were fourteen and thirteen, respectively, so Noctis at sixteen was far behind that curve. Add into that his reaction to the latest attempt to kidnap him, locking himself in his room for a week and then moving out in spite of his father’s request that he not, and there were a lot of people not pleased with him.

It didn’t help that Ignis and Gladio tended to prioritize him, or at least that’s what people seemed to think. It was true to a degree but that was because it was part of their job. Keeping his safe was their priority.

Noctis had never been one to abuse his so-called power in his opinion, growing up thinking he just had a big family with a lot of aunts and uncles who liked to do things for him and never realizing he could make them do what he wanted. He hadn’t known there was power to use let alone abuse, hadn’t realized that everything he wanted seemed to come to him. That had had a whole complex full of people will to kill for him.

He didn’t let it go to his head. He didn’t flaunt his power.

Other than his attempts to monopolize Ignis. It wasn’t that he thought it was okay, it was kind of embarrassing to call and demand his crush come by and cook with him or help him with his homework, but what else was he supposed to do? And Ignis was supposed to look after him so it wasn’t really all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

Ignis’ eyes cut over to Gladio. “You can handle the arrangements tonight, can’t you? I’ll have my phone on me should you need anything.”

Gladio’s face did something complicated, a brief flicker of emotion, then smoothed out. “Sure. You’re a shitty host anyway.”

Ignis’ lips quirked into a half smile and then he was motioning for Noctis to come with him. He grabbed his bag then hopped down the stair, falling into step with Ignis as they headed for the garage.

“Did you want to drive?” Ignis was smiling again but this time it was brighter, teasing, as he dangled the keys from his fingers. Noctis snatched them by way of reply, heart leaping in his chest. His father had given Ignis the Regelia to ‘keep in shape’ until Noctis was old enough to accept it and any chance to actually drive felt like he was one step closer.

Like maybe his father would trust him with something one day.

Ignis’ laughter sent chills down his spine and made heat pool in his stomach. His fingers itched to reach out and, once again, he pushed it down, curling his fingers around the keys instead.

“Now, what is this about Lunafreya’s birthday?”

Noctis clutched the keys so tight he could feel them digging into his hands. Right. The whole point of this. “She wants me to dance with her at her party.”

He saw Ignis look down at him, eyes narrowing. “Ah.”

Just ‘Ah’. Noncommittal, emotionless.

“So. I need you to teach me. How to dance. ...you know. Slowly.”

“...Ah.”

\---

Ignis adjusted his bluetooth, wincing slightly at the sound of Gladio’s rough voice asking if he was there. He hummed his acknowledgement, gaze drifting over to a nervous looking Noctis fiddling with his phone and speakers.

_“Alright. You want me to send a picture?”_

“Please do.” Noct looked up, question in his eyes, but Ignis shook his head, answering the question before it could be asked. “It's Gladio. He has a question about a going away gift for Titus.”

“Oh.” Noctis said, oblivious to Gladio snickering in his ear. “Should I get him something? I didn't know him that well but he's worked for my dad for a while, hasn't he?”

Quite a while, actually. That's what made his betrayal so unexpected and insidious. If Ignis hadn't happened to see Titus with some low level Niff dealer while driving Prompto home one evening they’d still be none the wiser. They'd had to act carefully but quickly to keep the Glaive from being alerted. While Regis should have been their first loyalty it wasn't totally inconceivable that they'd side with their leader instead. Some of them may have already been traitors.

They needed to know everything Titus knew.

“I’ll arrange something tasteful yet heartfelt so don't trouble yourself.” Ignis promised as his phone chimed and Gladio laughed again. He swiped open a message, took a moment to observe Titus tied to a chair, face a mask of defiance, looking much the same as he had a hour ago save the bloody stumps where some of his fingers had once been and an ashen pallor to his skin. The three new Guard they'd pulled for this were standing around him, looking varying degrees of uncomfortable, and a small table covered with an array of tools, in the sharp, blunt, electric, and chemical variety was sitting to the side. Some bloody towels were pushed to a corner.

Not that Gladio was likely to use any of those tools, save what he'd used to remove those fingers. He seemed to make things work with just his fists and an encyclopedic knowledge of the human body. Ignis envied his efficiency.

He closed the message and slipped his phone into his pocket before crossing over to Noctis, hands held out. Noct swallowed, throat bobbing, then stepped close. His cheeks pinkened when Ignis motioned him even closer and reached for his hand.

Then stopped frowning. “I suppose you should lead.”

_“...what the hell are you two doing over there?”_

Ignis didn't dignify that with a response.

Noctis shook his head. “Um, no, this is fine. You do whatever and I’ll. Pick it up.”

Ignis supposed that worked out just fine; he found teaching by doing worked best for Noctis in most things. He fit their bodies together, left hand resting lightly against Noct’s right and right hand settling on the younger teen's back.

Noctis looked started for a moment, eyes widening, then cleared his throat and nodded, seemingly in response to something in his head. He stood up a little straighter and looked up to meet Ignis’ gaze. It was a strange thing to watch his charge prepare himself for a simple dance lesson, taking this so serious when most things rolled off of him as if meaningless, but perhaps dancing with Luna was more important to Noctis than he'd assumed.

Well, if it was important to Noctis is was important to him.

“You can start things when you're ready.” He said, speaking to Noct as well as Gladio. Noctis hit something on his phone then tossed it aside as music swelled to life. Gladio let out a huff of air then, just as Ignis started to move, a meaty thump sounded in his ear.

Years of hand to hand and sword training had made Noctis light on his feet and a quick study if nothing else. They had a few incidents, their feet tangling and bodies colliding until Noct figured out how to follow him and move when he did, but nothing all that bad. Ignis kept some of his attention on the beat and on Noct, but most of it was on what was happening in his earpiece.

Gladio started out with an irregular pace, the sound of flesh colliding with flesh and pained groans occurring at random intervals, but soon enough it seemed to be more rhythmic. Steady.

Ignis smiled faintly when he realized Gladio’s hits were in time to the music. Gladio stopped a few times as one song flowed into another and another, asked Titus if he was ready to talk yet but never sounded like he was actually ready to stop. Titus responded with sneers that became slurred refusals and then ragged breathing; Gladio would start again once he was sure no information was forthcoming

He hated to be missing this. Regis had entrusted getting information from Titus to both of them and Ignis was not above admitting he tended to be very particular about how he did his work. But his duties to Noctis were every bit as important. And he knew Gladio would get the job done. Gladio understood how he liked things.

“Um.” Noctis stopped abruptly and Ignis hastily tuned back into his present activity, wondering if he'd somehow missed something important. Noct’s face was red again and he was tempted to press a hand to it to see if he was warm.

Before he could the younger teen was pushing closer and wrapping his arms around him, one hand finding the back of his neck and the other up to sink into his hair.

Ignis blinked. Noctis peered up at him through long lashes. “That was good, for. Formal stuff? But what if I-Luna!” Ignis arched an eyebrow but Noctis barreled on, not letting him speak. “What if Luna just wants to dance? Like normal people? Not a waltz-”

“That was not a-”

“Just close. And slow.” Noctis finished, glaring at him. “Okay?”

Gladio said something, tone mocking, but Ignis didn't hear it. He was busy processing, taking in how soft and anxious Noctis looked in the dim lighting of his Iiving room, how warm he was now that they were pressed together from knee to chest (and how had Noctis’ leg ended up between his own?) The weight of his fingers as they brushed over the short hairs on the back of his neck.

“If that's what you want,” He agreed, knowing he damn well he shouldn't and that he was often doing things he shouldn't where Noctis was involved, and let his hands slip down to settle at Noct’s waist. “Let's try something different.”

_"That's a good idea. You, the one who puked when I cut him. Give me that clear bottle. Yeah, the acid. Ignis loves this stuff."_

He was rather fond of it. 

Noct’s cheek was against his shoulder and weren't so much dancing as swaying in time to the music when the screaming started.

"Did you do your homework?"

"No one talks about homework when they dance."

“Of course.” Ignis drawled, fingers tightening minutely on Noctis’ waist. “What was I thinking?”

That got only a hum of contentment and a brush of fingers over his skin in response. Ignis turned his head slightly, let his nose brush over the top of Noctis’ head and breathed in. There was the barest hint of citrus lingering there, warm and entirely too familiar, a sign that he was too close too often. He was aware of it, painfully so, that every time he let Noctis haul him down on the couch to watch a movie and used him as a pillow that he was in the wrong. Every time their fingers brushed when they cooked or played games together and Noctis blushed or looked up at him through thick lashes he felt it.

Somewhere along the way they’d gotten too close. Their friendship had been strong as children then waned when Ignis had duties heaped upon him then become...something else when looking after Noctis had become part of those duties. Taking him to and from school, making sure he at and did his homework, studied, went to bed and woke up on time, even showing up at school functions on a few occasions when Regis just couldn’t make it.

...more than a few occasions.

Somewhere along the way tending to Noctis had become the highlight of his day. He arranged his whole life around it, set aside hours when he wasn’t to be disturbed under the threat of serious pain, happily played chauffeur to Noctis and Prompto even when other people offered to take on the duty for him, saw to Noct’s training alongside Gladio.

He came when Noctis called, came when he didn’t, enjoyed his company more than one should enjoy being with their charge. He could even see, in silent moments in the darkness of his apartment, where he might had been a bit unhealthily attached to his ohji, in the same manner that he was obsessed with his job and his duty. He was a man who could be...possessed by a certain single minded focus. It made him good at what he did and it made him incapable of doing the right thing and stepping back from Noctis like he should.

He lived for Noctis and would kill for him, had killed for him more than once and never felt anything but satisfaction in it. Would die for him without a thought. It was, perhaps, inevitable that something more would grow from that.

“Iggy,” Noctis spoke into the crook of his neck as his hands drifted again. Fingers brushed his arm, moved to where his rolled up sleeves gave way to skin and traced the feathers inked there with soft, smooth fingers. It was the bottom of the tattoo that covered the left side of his chest and arm, from the elbow down only part he’d let Noctis see and only because there were times, like now, when he needed his sleeves up.

It was...he wasn’t ashamed of his irezumi, not at all, but there was something that kept him from being as free with them in front of Noctis as Gladio was.

Maybe it was the nature of them, dark, harsh lines, filled in mostly black, none of them particularly nice to look at. The one of his left side started over his pectoral, a skull’s empty eyes and permanent death’s head grin dark against his skin, and flowed up onto his shoulder in a crest of feathers that blended into the image of Etro bleeding out on his back, surrounded by a mass of red poppies that appeared to be melting into the sea of blood at the bottom. From his shoulder it went down his arm to form wings; the reaper, the symbol of the Lucii. It had been his first, when he was fourteen and had just killed his first man. On the other side of his chest, were a pair of Komainu. The two ugly and monstrous crouched figures were identical save one had green eyes and it’s jaws closed tight and the other amber eyes and it’s jaws open in a roar. Red banners whipped around them, twisting and turning around their rocky bodies.

His right arm was bare, for the moment.  

He almost brushed Noctis’ fingers away from it but dark blue eyes caught his own, the emotion in them stealing his breath all at once.

“Ignis.” Noct’s fingers pressed into his skin, held him. “Can’t we-”

 _“Fuck you Amicitia!”_ Titus shouted, voice cracking; Gladio hissed and the sound of something hitting the ground made Ignis jerk away from Noctis, ignoring the way the teen’s face crumpled. He didn’t get a chance to ask after Gladio before the older man spoke, sounding annoyed.

 _“You spat on me. C’mon Titus, that’s just rude.”_ The sharp smack of flesh on flesh warbled through the bluetooth. _“If you have something to say just say it.”_

 _“You think this means anything?”_ Titus’ words were touched with a certain manic energy and thick with pain. He sounded like a man on the brink but then, acid in open wounds tended to do that to people in Ignis’ experience. _“The Niffs are taking Tenebrae and then Lucis. You’re insane if you think you can stop that. It doesn’t matter if you know or not.”_

 _“It probably matters a little bit.”_ Gladio said lightly; Ignis could hear the wobble in his voice.

He could relate. He wasn’t much for fear or worry but that was certainly...disconcerting news.

Ignis dragged his tongue over his lips thoughtfully and pretended he didn’t see Noctis’ eyes on him or the pink flush stealing across his nose. Nifelheim were the Caelum’s rivals, as it were. There had been an all out war a few generations past, resulting in both having their numbers dangerous thinned out and the Caelums losing much of their territory outside of Lucis. Nifelheim had grown considerably in that time, absorbing street gangs all over and gaining a new, ruthless edge at the same time.

Tenebrae was under the control of the Nox-Fleurets, an ally to the Caelums and the family of Lunafreya, Noct’s good friend. (How good Ignis was unsure about but he often wondered and hated that he wondered about it.) An ally but weaker, considerably weaker, than they were and in a bad position, stuck between Niff territory and Accordo territory as they were.

“ _You’re all too busy taking care of your crippled boss or fucking his useless son-”_

A sharp crack and clatter filled the line. A heavy silence followed. Noctis took a step towards him but a raised hand from Ignis stopped him.

 _“Ignis-”_ Gladio started.

“I’m on my way.” He pulled the bluetooth free, swiping over the button to disconnect the call. He smiled apologetically at Noctis. Rarely did he let other things take precedence over Noctis but this was no typical matter. “Ohji-”

“Don’t call me that.” He grumbled, arms crossing over his chest. “Just go. Enjoy that party.”

The accusation in Noctis’ tone was noted as was the anger in his gaze. He knew that Ignis had lied to him. Unfortunate, less because of this incident specifically as because Noctis would no doubt start wondering if Ignis lied to him often.

The answer to that was yes. Near constantly, without ever missing a beat, and he would continue to do so as needed. Whatever it took to keep Noctis safe and secure was something Ignis would never hesitate over, even if it hurt in the short term.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next Chapter Teaser: 
> 
> "What are you doing over here?” Gladio sidled up behind him, eyebrow arched. Ignis held up the wristbands for his inspection. “...are we thieves now?” 
> 
> As if they hadn’t driven down to Galdin Quay after Titus had spilled his guts (rather literally at the end. Unpleasant business what with how it'd made the three borrowed guards vomit rather spectacularly all over the place. All three of them.) about a few places paying out to the Niffs for the sheer purpose of breaking in and burning everything down. And leaving Titus’ body somewhere to be found. 
> 
> Ignis was considering tying a bow around his neck but Gladio was rather insistent that he was becoming ‘morbid’. Ignis was fairly certain Gladio was missing the point. 
> 
> “Often, yes.” Ignis deadpanned. Gladio tilted his head in acknowledgement. “What do you think? For Prompto?” 
> 
> Gladio’s nose wrinkled. “I think Prompto is all of 12 and you need to get your shit together.” 
> 
> Ignis blinked, uncomprehending. “He’ll be 16 at the end of the month but what does...that...” Gladio’s eyebrows went up even further. Ignis recoiled. “You’re disgusting. I would never.” 
> 
> “Yeah, okay.” Gladio said skeptically as he plucked the leather straps from his hands. “...you see anything Iris might like?”
> 
> Ignis was willing to admit that there was some level of hypocrisy in how offended he felt. Not out loud, Gladio would take far too much satisfaction in that and there was a part of Ignis that was afraid Gladio actually thought such things about him and didn’t want to press the issue, but in his head. Out loud he informed his friend of some rings he’d seen at the other end of the display case, handing over his lockpicks to help with that endeavor. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Memory Lane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10142354) by [Deniera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deniera/pseuds/Deniera)




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